Someone Like Him
by Noose
Summary: The phantom ,still hurting from Christine's betrayal, is back to living beneath the recently repaired Opera Populair, but when the old conductor monsieur Reyer retires someone takes his place, and she is quite unusual. Could it be that the phantom has finally found someone like him, or will Evelyn's past drive them apart?
1. Prologue

**Hello, Noose here this is my very first fan fiction so if you are reviewing please be kind, and if you actually like my work as I go along I can be a terrible critic of my own work and am liable, should I read it over, to think that it is only worthy of burning. So if you want me to write chapter two you are going to need to bother me a lot, please I need encouragement or I will give up. Right now I probably sound pretty pathetic so I'll just let you get on with the story, and if you like it please tell me, and I might have chapter two up within the week. Thank You!**

"Erik, breakfast" I called over the din of discordant organ music that echoed throughout the cavern. Per the norm he ignored me, preferring instead to increase the volume of his playing, to better show his annoyance at my intrusion. I gazed sadly at his thinning frame; he hadn't been eating well, not since that night, the night he set fire to the opera house… the night Christine left him. I took a beep breath "Erik please, you need to eat" he stopped abruptly, the dying notes fading into the high ceilings of the cavern leaving the place uncomfortably silent.

"Go away" came his low command, he didn't face me, preferring to gaze down at the worn keys of his organ, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

"Erik…" I ventured one last time, but this only seemed to anger him

Jumping up from his seat he spun to face me, his mask may have hid the right side of his face, but I could clearly see the deep purple circles beneath his left eye, and the sickly paleness of his skin. I could tell he hadn't slept in days, and as he stood his once fitted clothes seemed to hang on his bony frame. I knew had he not been wearing so many layers, I would be able to count every one of his ribs, but despite his apparent weakness I still feared his explosive temper as he roared at me to leave "I SAID GO AWAY WOMAN, CAN YOU NOT EVEN OBEY SUCH A SIMPLE ORDER"! His lips were pulled back from his teeth in an animalistic snarl. I did my best to hide my emotions from him; my tears would garner no sympathy from the enraged opera ghost. Then, in a surge of anger, I whipped my head up to meet his seething yellow gaze

"Fine then, I will leave, and this time, I am not coming back. You may _starve_ for all care" these words I snapped in my angriest voice, the one I often used for stagehands who overstepped their bounds of going near the ballet dressing rooms.

I cared for him all these years, I led him here, and _this_ is how he treats me! In the back of my mind I knew I couldn't really blame him he was a broken soul, with next to no chance of being repaired, but I was serious this time. I was done with his fits and moodiness, he'd been bad before but now he was unbearable. I turned on my heel and marched in the direction on the tunnels making sure my fury showed in every echoing snap of my heels against the ground.

"I don't need your coddling _Madam Giry" _he called after my retreating form. His dark laughter sending a shiver down my spine I quickened my pace until I nearly running towards the surface exiting the secret passage hidden behind one of the golden statues in the lobby I swiftly calmed my breathing, composing my self I strode out of the shadows. The day wasn't over yet.

_Evelyn Monroe_

"Evelyn Monroe, 25 years old"

"Yes, yes, thank you" the man muttered without looking up as he scribbled onto a piece of paper on his battered old clipboard. . "And what kind of job was it that you were looking into at our _fine_ establishment, a dancer? Chorus girl perhaps?" he still wasn't looking t me, I became rather irritated that this man could not take me seriously. I honestly wanted to smack the fool, but I controlled my self.

"_Actually_ monsieur, correct me if I'm wrong, but I had heard your conductor recently retired". At this, his head jerked up an expression of pure disbelief etched into his face, and his mouth hung open for a moment. It was so comical, what with his trim little moustache, and his frazzled grey streaked brown hair, but I once again reminded myself to be civil I had to impress this man if he was going to be my new employer.

Then he began to laugh, his shoulders shaking with mirth, in an attempt to stop he took several great gasping breaths, and I could smell his bad breath all the way on the other side of the desk. I felt my anger begin to build within me.

"Surely you must be joking?" he inquired, laughter in his voice.

"No _monsieur, _I am afraid that I am not_ joking" _my words became clipped with anger, and I did my best to control my natural Irish brogue as it bled into my speech. French and Gaelic did not mix well, and the angrier I became, I knew the more incomprehensible I would become as well.

"Mademoiselle incase you didn't notice you are a woman. What credentials could you possibly have to become a conductor, especially for an opera house as famous as the Opera Populair?" the manager asked me this with his barely suppressed laughter still evident in his voice. By now I was boiling with rage, and I was sure my face was now as red as my hair. I adjusted my wire rimmed glasses with a shaking hand

"Well incase _you _didn't notice _monsieur, _your opera house isn't in the best shape, believe me when I say this dump of a theater wasn't my only choice of employment, but I took pity on you because you seemed to be in a spot. What with the horrendous money troubles you've been having, which I assure you are all over the papers, along with the repairs from last season's fire you still need to make. Lastly, as for my credentials monsieur, I an _more_ than qualified to be your _lowly_ conductor, for your information this _woman _has her doctoral degree in music composition directly from the Brussels conservatory in Belgium, _and_ this woman also has 4 years of studying directly with its founder Charles Auguste de Bériot famous composer, and violinist who I am sure has probably _written_ several of the operas you people perform here". I cut off breathing heavily from my angry tirade.

There were several moments of silence from the man. I glanced disdainfully at his flabbergasted expression, and sighed inwardly I had lost control of my temper, and now I was more than likely going to be kicked out on my butt, and asked none too politely never to come back. I bent to retrieve my bag from where it lay on the ground, and stood to leave. Just as I reached to door he spoke.

"Wait mademoiselle" I stopped hardly daring to believe my luck. The man beckoned me back over a resigned expression on his face "_if_ what you say is true, I do suppose you are…_qualified_ to become a conductor, and we _are _in need of one. I suppose we could use you". I allowed a smile to stretch its way across my face.

"But if someone else with better skill comes asking, I will have no hesitation in turning you out, you will be paid 700 francs a month. Also if your work is not up to my standards, or you cause any unnecessary troubles within the opera house you will be out of the job. Do you understand?" I nodded wincing slightly at the small amount, 700 francs! It was scarcely better pay than that of a ballet rat. I groaned inwardly at what I was about to say.

"Monsieur a favor if I may ask" he glanced at me impatiently "I will take half the pay the offered if I am allowed room, and board here" his eyes seemed to light up at the mention of lessening my pay.

"Why of course, that would be no problem at all" he had a sleazy grin on his face that made me feel distinctly uncomfortable "why I know _just_ the place".

I was escorted by one of the maids to my room. It was located in a seemingly deserted hallway that didn't look to have been cleaned in quite a while. I glanced at my companion who seemed incredibly fidgety, she kept glancing around her as if expecting the old faded wallpaper to come alive and swallow us whole.

"Something wrong Marie"? She jumped at the sound of my voice and let out a squeak of surprise. Her terrified eyes met my curious yellow ones.

"My apologies mademoiselle, it's just that this hallway is haunted" I blinked in surprise and had the unmistakable urge to laugh

"What?" I asked in disbelief.

"Its true mademoiselle they say that a ghost haunts this hall, at night you can hear screaming, and crying, and when morning comes we find things broken, and smashed, tis the opera ghost Mrs." I gave her a bemused look.

"Marie, aren't you a little old to believe in ghost stories"? Her brow furrowed in frustration and her hands balled into fists.

"Its true Mrs. I've heard him me self, crying, and wailing like a wounded animal. Scared me stiff he did"

"Did you ever think that perhaps it_ is_ an animal Marie? This place is old and full of holes. It's not inconceivable for one to have gotten in". She shook her head stubbornly

"You'll see Mrs., You'll see" I sighed and shook my head I had forgotten how superstitious theater people were.

"Thank you for showing me to my room Marie, you should probably get back to work" I told the young, still clearly frightened girl. She showed no hesitation in leaving me in the supposedly '_haunted_' hallway. I sighed again, loudly, as I entered what was to be my new room. It was a mess, dust clogged every corner, and I was fairly sure that it had once been a broom closet in another life. I made a sound of disgust.

"I am not sleeping in here". I maneuvered my way back out into the hallway "if they insist on giving me the deserted hallway, I'm fairly sure they probably don't care which room I use". It was obvious no one ever came down here; I guessed it was just going to be me, and the dust bunnies Oh, and of course the mysterious phantom of whom I'm fairly sure is a raccoon. I made my way to the cleanest door I could find, opening it I was greeted with a welcome sight. Other than several clearly forgotten dead flowers, the room was quite clean; especially in comparison with the previous room I had been given. It didn't have a bed, but that was fine. I could always just use the cot from the other room. I surveyed the place, the faded pink wallpaper wasn't my favorite, but it didn't really matter in comparison with the huge gilded floor length mirror that dominated the room. Clearly this was probably an old performer's dressing room. I lay my over-stuffed carpet bag on the divan, it was perfect.

Later, after I had snuck out to the backdoor of the kitchens to retrieve my cat from where he sat waiting for me in the alleyway, I got ready for bed. My long off-white night gown was several inches too short, and had been mended several times, but it was at least warm. I called to my cat, a young brown tabby I had found on the streets several years ago, I had fed him once, and the rest was history. He was my ever faithful companion, and I took him every where. Holding out my hand I beckoned to him "Eric, time for bed" he leapt up onto the small cot, making the flimsy thing rock slightly. I stroked his head fondly as he curled up beside my head "that's right big boy, you know your place" I joked in a soft voice, he purred in response. Finally I drifted off to sleep my tired eyes sliding shut, unaware of the other pair, watching me from behind the mirror.

**Yes, yes I know its short but they'll probably get longer as I go on **

**Thank you for reading! Here's a little poem for you all:**

**Once I get **

**One review **

**I will post**

**Chapter 2!**

**-your ever humble servant, Noose**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone I'm back,**

**Big thanks to my first reviewer PhantomFan01 he/She's the reason I posted this chapter today. So shame on you all who didn't review, but don't worry I'll forgive you as long as you promise to review in the future :3 also ps: I mention yellow eye's a lot in this story because both the phantom, and Evelyn have them, and no I did not make that up. In the original book by Gaston Leroux states that the phantom does in fact have yellow eyes that glow in the dark like a cat's… yippy cats! **

Removing my glasses, I gripped the bridge of my nose between my thumb, and fore finger squeezing tightly to help alleviate the monumental headache that had been building behind my temples since the moment I began working with the orchestra, ever since the unexpected retirement of the previous conductor, of whom I learned was a man by the name of monsieur Reyer, the orchestra had obviously become very lax in their discipline. From the moment I entered the pit, these men had disrespected me, and have attempted to undermine my authority at every turn, blatantly ignoring me until I was just about ready to burst.

I'd like to think, that for an Irishwoman, I am very good at keeping my temper under a firm lid, but the fact remains, I _am _an Irish woman, and I _do _have a very explosive temper. Then, just as I was placing my glasses back onto the somewhat reddened bridge of my nose one man called out in a mocking tone.

"Hey ballerina, you lost, the pit's no place for a woman" after saying this, the man and several of his buddies snickered loudly. Then I lost it, in a flash I seemed to simply appear in front of the man, a saxophone player, with sandy blond hair that looked as though it hadn't been washed in weeks.

"Excuse me, would you care to repeat that"? I questioned in a deadly calm voice, my oddly colored yellow eyes flashing with anger. The man looked up at me stupidly, I noticed several of his 'buddies' scoot away none too subtlety, but this buffoon didn't seem to sense the danger.

"uh, sure sweetheart I wuz jus' ask' in if you'd lost your way" my eyes narrowed

"firstly" I snapped wrapping my left hand around his throat and, using my height as leverage, forced him back against his chair

"I'm am not you sweetheart, nor would I ever wish to be, secondly, I am your conductor, and this goes for the rest of you as well, you _will _treat meas such, I am not your friend, I am not your girlfriend, if anything I am your master, for as long as you are within the confines of this theater you will be within my power, because, keep in mind, I _do_ have the authority to fire each, and every one of you, and I will do so without _any_ hesitation what. So. Ever. Therefore, it would be in all of you best interests _not_ to anger me any further" I allowed a smile to cross my face but it was not a kind one by any means more like that of a wild animal showing you its teeth.

"Do you understand"? I asked them, my voice coming out sickly sweet. When I released my grip on the infuriating man, I noticed there were five perfectly shaped crescent moons imprinted on the skin of his throat. I made a show of disdainfully wiping my hand on the fabric of my dress, before making my way back to the podium. Silence reigned for several minuets, as the men absorbed this new development.

"Now from the beginning of act one please". I watched with grim satisfaction as the men jumped in to action, scrambling to put together their instruments, and find their respective music sheets. Tapping my baton against the podium I began.

The rest of practice when rather smoothly, with minimal interruptions, at least until we began working with the singers. This happened to be the dreaded day I was introduced to Carlotta Giudicelli, the most pigheaded, narcissistic, _diva_, I ever hope to meet. From the moment she laid eyes on me, she hated me.

I try to be nice to people I really do, I try not to judge them like any good Christian ought to, give them the benefit of the doubt, and all that, but sometimes it's just _so_ hard. _Especially_ after they open their mouths, wail like a banshee, and then insist that it's singing. After several attempts at gently correcting her, and asking her to please try and follow the music, I gave up. Some people's skulls are just so thick you need a hammer for them to get the point. I climbed up on stage, and politely asked her to speak with me in private. She made a great fuss about it but eventually acquiesced, stepping back behind the curtains. I took a deep breath as she began tapping her foot impatiently, her pointed heels making a loud clicking noise, each time they made contact with the ground.

"Well, what is it"? She inquired snappily, in her obnoxious high pitched Italian accent.

" Alright mademoiselle Giudicelli, since you seem so eager for me to get to the point I will ask you just this once, can you, or can you not, read music" I watched with a sinking heart as her pale, powered face reddened with fury, so much for private.

"How dare you, you little rat, of course I can _read_ music, what do you take me for, an amateur? _Te piccola cagna!_" I interrupted her tirade.

"Then why mademoiselle can you not sing the notes on the page, it does not seem that it would be all that difficult, if you are as incredible as you claim." The words came out in a waspish tone of voice that was sure to provoke the already offended Italian diva. Then before I could really think about the potential ramifications of my actions, I continued.

"The last time I heard someone make a sound like the one I heard back there" I gestured toward the stage, my voice steadily rising in volume.

"They had just _broken_ their _ARM_"! The last word I ended up shouting into her face. That pushed her over the edge. Throwing he arms up in the air she began to throw what could only be called, a tantrum.

"THAT'S IT I'M DONE, I'M'A DONE I REFUSE TO BE TREATED THIS WA-" I swiftly cut her off, gripping her by the ear I jerked her down to my level covering her mouth with the palm of my hand.

"Will you be _quiet?_ You sound like a child who didn't get her way. You're a grown woman, _act_ like it!, I brought you back here so I wouldn't embarrass you in front of everyone, and you are completely defeating the purpose of that gesture" I could feel her saliva bleeding through the fabric of my glove, I grimaced, then, digging my nail into her ear just enough to make her squeak in pain, I whispered harshly "are you done yet"? She nodded furiously a few tears trickling down her face, I sighed.

"All right I'll let you go as long as you promise not to cause any more trouble, alright?" she nodded again, and I released her. She jerked upright and began carefully wiping the tears from her face, she even whipped out a small mirror so to check if she had smeared her makeup, and I sighed in exasperation at her antics

"No more trouble _ok" _I clarified, looking at her pointedly. She shot me a glare, and with a harrumph she tipped her nose into the air looking for all the world like an overgrown pink peacock.

"Yes, yes of course, of course" she stated dismissively flapping a hand in my direction. I rolled my eyes knowing full well that was the best I was going to get out of the airheaded fool, but just as I was about to leave her, I was sure I heard a soft masculine chuckle off towards my right. I glanced back at Carlotta but she showed no sign of having heard anything. Shaking my head I muttered to my self "the stress is definitely getting to me".

***********3***********

I needed Eric, ever since the day I found him he has been the most marvelous stress reliever; I only hope that he hasn't gotten lost. True it has been our unspoken agreement since day one that if I let him go, he will always return, but it still doesn't stop me from worrying about him. He has been my only friend ever since my parents died… ever since _it _happened. I shivered from an invisible cold, as I made my way down to my room

"Eric, here boy, where are you? I brought lunch". I breathed a sigh of relief when he came trotting down the hallway, his tail held high in greeting. I smiled, giving him some shredded lunch meat I had stolen from the kitchens. "Yeah, yeah I know your weakness, you little piglet" I murmured, patting his back as he devoured his meal. Then, noticing the traces of blood and fur on his paws, I scoffed.

"You really are a pig, you've probably been gorging your self on mice all day, and here I am sharing my hard earned scraps with you!" I shook my head in mock horror, before letting out a girlish giggle when he tilted his head up, and licked my chin. Then suddenly he stiffened, glaring over my shoulder, he arched his back, and hissed threateningly. I spun around but was met with only blank wall. I turned back to him in confusion, but just as I was about to say something I heard a soft thud, and a scraping noise. A smile spread across my face.

"Well, Eric it seems you've discovered our clever little phantom, I was wondering when he was going to turn up". I shook my head I amused that I had been scared of what was likely only a little raccoon, I should probably look into making a trap for that thing, I wouldn't want to wake up with it in my room, raccoons aren't always the kindest to cats.

***********3***********

Finally my hunger had gotten to me. I guess Madam Giry was speaking the truth when she promised to stop coming, good riddance; I don't need her interrupting my compositions, any more than I need her bloody checkups, I wasn't blind, I knew she didn't trust me to take care of my self. I remembered, for a moment the amusing tongue lashing I had heard given to _la _Carlotta by some unknown woman, that self obsessed, brat of a diva had been let run wild for too long, since the extended absence of the opera ghost.

It was true; I hadn't once interfered with the theaters workings since... I stopped my throat closing up, and my head dropping to my chest. I could feel a wave of sorrow threatening to crash over me. I hadn't been able to do anything since that night I haven't even been able to compose, or even draw anything worth being called art, things that had once been as natural to me as breathing. I could no longer do, to even the simplest degree. No, ever since that little _vixen's _betrayal my mind has been empty, I no longer hear the invisible melodies swirling through my mind, as they had since the day I was born. My only truly loyal companions, they too had abandoned me, with the rest of the world. Damn her, it's all her fault, I hate, I ha-… I love her. Even now, after all she's done I can't hate her.

"_Oh, Christine"_ I whisperedmournfully into the silence. Clutching my wounded heart I let out a shaky breath. Then, I heard a voice speak my name, it sounded so kind, loving, like a mother.

"_Antoinette_?" I breathed my voice coming out strangely childlike, and vulnerable. "I brought lunch", came the soft voice again. My stomach chose this time to make its hunger known to me once more. I suppressed the urge to groan in pain. I peered through a hidden spy hole in the wood. Tilting my head until I caught sight of a girl, a young woman really, speaking softly to a brown tabby cat. So this was the Eric she spoke of, I couldn't help the stab of disappointment that ran through me. I pushed the unwelcome feeling aside; studying her once more. I took in her drab appearance, a plain brown dress with a loose tan cardigan thrown over it to ward off the autumn chill. I surmised that she must be a cleaning lady, or someone of equal status.

I knew I didn't recognize her. Though normally this wouldn't be unusual, I cannot be expected to keep up with every lowly person in the cleaning staff that the foolish managers hire, and often fire at the drop of a hat, but I was sure that I would have remembered someone with such wild masses of vibrant, curly, red hair. Judging from her pleasant lilting accent, I guessed she must have been from Irish or Scottish descent.

A loud hiss interrupted my musings; I peered back out into the hallway and was met with the unnerving sight of an angry cat staring directly into my eyes. Damn, the beast had smelled me, the girl turned to look as well, and I was struck by her simple beauty, her skin was pale, with a light, almost unnoticeable dusting of freckles across her nose, she wasn't a classic beauty by any means, but she possessed a certain loveliness in her thin, heart shaped face, but what startled me most was her eyes. I was forced to stumble back in surprise, and I winced at the noise I made as my foot knocked against the thin wall, but her _eyes, _even though their intensity was somewhat concealed behind her large wire rimmed glasses I could still see_,_ they were just like mine_._

I knew full well that my eyes were unusual, and often frightening to other people. Madam Giry told me so, many times when we were younger, and to this day I had never encountered another human being with the same oddity, until now.

Then, with a flash of anger I realized that she was the very same girl who had dared sleep in my Christine's room. I felt rage fill my weakened body, sapping my strength even further. I growled under my breath I would deal with her later, right now what I needed most was a good meal. I stood there for a few more moments staring at the girl as she spoke, though I was not quite comprehending what she was saying, I knew I needed to move, I had no guarantees that my aching stomach would remain silent for much longer, and I had no wish to be discovered just yet. I turned and with a swish of my cloak I set off along the passage once more, silent as a ghost.

**Ok, this time I need two reviews to post the next chapter, I don't even care if you are complaining about my bad grammar (ps: I am on the hunt for a Beta reader) just please review. Also if you have any ideas for things I should put into the story or change I am open to suggestions. Thank you!**

**-Your ever humble servant, Noose**


	3. Chapter 2

**HUGE! Shout out to my loyal reviewer PhantomFan01 and my newer ones Poetam, and LurkingLady, all of who were kind enough to post reviews for my story and are the reasons that I posted this newest chapter. You two rock! Also, since I just resized I haven't put this in any of my other chapters, I DO NOT, I repeat, I DO NOT OWN PHANTOM OF THE OPERA OR ANY OF IT'S CHARACTERS :( sob Ps: whether or not you are a new reader or not I am just going to say that, to better differentiate between our beloved phantom, and our new kitty friend, I have changed the spelling of the cats name to Eric rather than Erik so you can better tell between the two when you are reading. (also I did some minor revisions on the previous chapters, nothing really noticeable though, just a little grammar check, and some rewording)**

–**many thanks, Noose.**

I was going to get rid of that _girl_, if it was the last thing I did, that room had lain undisturbed since the night of my operas primer, its first, and only performance, and I be damned if I allow her to disturb _my_ Christine's room…It was one of the few things that remained to remind me of her. After the night she… after the night she betrayed me, I went into a rage, destroying every picture I had ever drawn of her, every song I had ever written for her, even the precious mannequin I had spent so long in sculpting, lay destroyed at the bottom of my underground lake, doubtlessly now home to more than a few fish.

I slipped into madam Giry's office, a cramped little room clogged with all manner of photographs, and trinkets, I was pleased to see that she was in, sitting stiff-backed in a chair, at her desk. She was facing away from me, more than likely working on some sort of paper work, or another for the opera house, but before I could take another step she spoke.

"Go away Erik, I'm not ready to speak with you yet". I growled low in my throat, my lip curling in contempt "I think you forget whose theater this is _madam_, you do not have a _choice,_ in whether or not you speak with me". My eyes narrowed when she still did not turn to face me. "_Fine" _I nearly hissed with annoyance,_ "_if you insist on being difficult, I will just get rid of the girl _my way_." She turned abruptly, the legs of her old, velvet plush desk chair grating against the unfinished hardwood floor. Her startled face met my stone-like one.

"Who?" I tapped my foot against the ground impatient, and more than a little Irritated, she was _supposed_ to keep on top of things, she always had in past.

"The girl madam, the one sleeping in my Christine's room, I want her _gone_". She looked confused, which only irritated me further.

"What girl?" she asked her voice oddly soft. I cried out in exasperation

"THE GIRL MADEM, THE GIRL, THE ONE WHO DARES SLEEP IN _HER _ROOM, I WANT HER _GONE!" _madam Giry placed a hand to her head closing her eyes for a moment, then suddenly as if a light bulb had clicked on her tired eyes fluttered open.

"Oh… you mean Evelyn"

"Yes, yes, I don't _care _what her name is, I. Want. Her. Gone." I ground out impatiently. Her face took on a familiar steely look.

"I'm afraid I can't do that Erik" she replied coldly. My temper flared once more I was just about to yell at her again when I suddenly understood. She was mad at me, and this was her way of getting me back. I began to laugh, but this only seemed to frighten her, as her gray blue eyes took on a wary look. My sinister laughter echoed through the small room. I pretended to wipe a tear from my eye

"Oh madam" I shook my head slightly "you think you are going to inconvenience me in some way, when you are really only making things much more _unpleasant,_ for our dear… Evelyn was it?" a look of horror crossed her face as I began to retreat back through the secret passage from where I had come.

"Erik wait!" I paused, glancing back at her, a cool expression on my face. She looked terrified.

"Please… please don't kill her" anger warmed my veins once more

"so glad you think so highly of me _madam_, you of all people should know if I killed women, our dearest Carlotta would have been found hanging from the rafters the day she set foot in my theater". She breathed a sigh of relief, nodding her absently without looking at me. I bared my teeth in frustration, slipping back into the passageway.

Something about her presence lately had been grating on my nerves, she hadn't been acting like herself for quite some time, and I did not like it. Stalking off I pushed the matter from my mind, and began planning just how I would get rid of precious, little, _Evelyn._

***********3***********

I was having a bad day, no other word for it. There was not a single kind thing that had happened to me, and thus I was incredibly grumpy. Firstly, I had awoken to find myself shivering cold. I had no clothes warm enough to remedy this problem, my only winter cloak having been stolen from me several weeks before I came here, by a drunkard in an alleyway, thankfully Eric had scared him off before he could do anything else.

So I went throughout the day shivering, while everyone strode by me decked out in their winter cloaks, and Carlotta's case, giant furry arm mufflers. Then, while practicing in the pit with the orchestra, I was knocked from my precarious position at the conductor's podium by an errant dancer's foot, and I now had a sprained wrist and a large painful bump to show for it. Then, so not to give my _precious _managers a reason to fire me, I continued to conduct practice, every movement like a thousand knifes to my throbbing wrist. Then later, just as I was about to head to find myself some lunch _la _Carlotta decided that it would be great fun to trip me, and send me sprawling flat on my face. Succeeding in both publicly embarrassing me, and causing me immense pain from my already injured wrist. Lastly, to top it all off there had been absolutely no sign of Eric all day, and I was beginning to worry. I trudged tiredly down the deserted hallway, for once thankful for its silence, soothing my pounding headache. It was all I could think of was to be in my tiny cot, buried beneath my spare clothes, of which, were my only blankets, and warm. I stopped at my door, and dug around in my pockets for my key. I always lock my door, an old habit of mine. I'm not a very trusting person.

Then, a flash of alarm shot through me, as I franticly searched my dress pockets, even going so far as to turn them inside out, in hopes, that my missing possession might magically appear. _My key was gone. _Falling back against the door I let out a shaky breath. I hadn't cried yet because the promise of Eric's company, a warm bed, and a good book always loomed at the end of the day, my silent promise of comfort, and solace. And now that even those, my most basic of comforts, had been denied to me, whether it was just some cruel twist of fate, or someone having stolen it from me, I was still barred from my room, and all of my belongings. Succumbing to exhaustion and misery, I slid down the door, till I sat, my knees pulled to my chest in a fetal position, at its base.

I stared fixatedly at the wall opposite me, shivering as the nighttime chill permeated the old opera house, and chilled my tear dampened cheeks. It was then that the music came to me, as it all ways did in my times of extreme emotion, winding around me, warming my veins, and embracing me like a lover. I sighed forlornly as I heard the distant melody of a piano began, accompanied by the repetitive beat of a guitar. Feeling the music weave its way through my mind once more, I knew what to do, so amidst my silent tears, I opened my mouth and sang.

***********3***********

I watched from the shadows as the girl made her way to Christine's room, a grim smile spread across my face, as I twirled her key on my finger. I was more than prepared to enjoy her frustration when she found her room locked, and her precious cat missing. I stared at the back of her head intently, frowning slightly when I noticed she had pulled her wild masses of red hair back into a tight bun, I liked it better when it was down.

Shaking my head to rid myself of such foolish thoughts, I saw her lean back against the door in exhaustion, but what surprised me most was when the tears came, silently rolling down her face leaving glistening trails down her pale cheeks. I felt an inexplicable stab of guilt at my actions towards the girl, though they were no more than petty tricks, I had upset her, and I _didn't _like it.

That's when I heard it, my eyes shot open, and my breathing quickened in anticipation, and it had been too long since I had heard the music. Where it once accompanied my every action, it had been lost to me till now.

It was an odd beat, a repetitive chord played on a guitar, a relatively uncommon instrument, especially in opera, and there was an unusually heavy percussive beat to the song. Yet, it fit together perfectly with the piano, creating a dark, fast-paced, and still somehow sad, melody. My eyes focused back on the girl as she began to sing.

I was entranced in spite of my self, her voice, despite her tears, was clean and pure, echoing sadly through the silent halls of the sleeping opera house.

_In this scene  
on this night  
there's a well trodden path,  
where shadows they do tend to wander._

_And the ghosts that live here  
hold each moment so dear,  
for time's not a thing one should squander…_

I silently agreed with her, regretting the weeks, the _months_ I had wasted wallowing in my misery, and anger.

_How I __recount the sand  
as it runs through my hand's  
and examine each moment for meaning._

_On a street in the night  
in the cold autumn plight  
a child stands alone and she's waiting…_

I stared openmouthed at the slight girl as she sang, silent tears running down her too pale face, could she hear it too, the music? No, no one could but me. I've known that for many years. That won't change now… But as the music soared, so did her voice, her natural lilting accent only enhancing the purity of her tone.

_For here in this city without light  
this evening awakens  
the dreams that it might,  
the autumn it conjures  
the moment is seized…_

Even when her voice broke with sorrow, I could hear her unmistakable talent, so like my own… Her song softened.

My sorrow it blankets the ground…  
Still I believe.

She cut off, letting out another stifled sob. I stared at her, as the music slowed and ended. I suppressed a soft sound of protest as the notes faded into oblivion. I had forgotten how good it felt to hear the music, especially after going so long without its comforting presence.

I looked again to the girl, _Evelyn _I corrected myself, she had a name. I found that she had fallen into an uneasy sleep, sprawled out on the cold, wood floor. Once again, I felt that stab of guilt for locking her out of the room the way I had. Sighing, I made my way over to her still form. Stooping, I gently slid my arms beneath her quaking body, feeling just how thin she truly was.

I felt somewhat concerned, an unfamiliar feeling as of late, but every bone of her spine dug into my arms wherever I held her. This, combined with the obviously poor state of her clothing, painted the picture of a poor girl, with little to eat. Perhaps it wouldn't be too much trouble to leave some money for her, to at least buy good meal with; I certainly had the francs to spare. After lying her down on the flimsy old cot, I left the key I had stolen from her on the divan beside her bag. Lastly, I returned to the passageway where I had hidden earlier. Retrieving a medium sized, padded wooden box, bringing it to the room, I flicked the catch, releasing a certain, extremely angry, brown tabby. Springing from his prison, he attempted to lung at me with his claws. My hand shot out griping his scruff, disabling the little monster. He shot me an affronted look, before turning his amber gaze to his sleeping mistress.

Awkwardly holding the feisty feline away from my body, I carried him over to the bed, dropping him there. He glared at me once more, before curling up beside the girls head, and purring softly in her ear. I surveyed the pair for a moment, then grumbling to myself I unlatched my cape from around my shoulders, and lay it over the shivering girl, almost earning a few scratches for my efforts.

Snatching my wrist away from her little brown demon, I growled in annoyance. It wasn't that I cared about her, no; it's only that it wouldn't do to have her freeze after all the effort I took into bringing her in here…

"Yes, that's all" I assured my self softly as I made my way back into the catacombs, beneath the sleeping opera house, "it has to be".

**Aww! How sweet, and poor Evelyn that was one bad day. I know I'd be miserable, but was that all she was miserable from, or could it be more hmm? Wait and see. (All music belongs to respective owners, and Evelyn's song was an abridged, edited version of a TSO song). Also, every time you hear our dear phantom mention 'the music', incase you didn't get it at first, it's a theory of mine, like in the movie and the musical they are always singing right?, well my theory is that, being the impossible musical genius he is all that disembodied orchestra music you are always hearing throughout the film, and or musical, is what Erik hears on a daily basis, and when Christine leaves him, he loses that, and he misses it desperately. Not sure if any of you are going to get this, but I hope you do. Also this time I require at least 5 reviews to post my next chapter, please just show me you care! I don't care if you are just complaining about something, just TELL ME! Anyway thank you for reading. (Still looking for a Beta reader if anyone is interested)**

**-Your ever humble servant, Noose**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hello every one, I'm back! Big thanks to all who took the time out of their day to review my humble work of fanfiction, especially, to my most loyal reviewers, Phantomfan01, and Poetam. I love you all, ps: I made some revisions to the previous chapter, including changing the song that Evelyn sang, so you may want to reread that part. Enjoy this chapter, I rather proud, it's my longest one yet! So don't forget to review. **

**-Your humble servant, Noose**

The next morning I awoke to the strangest, and most welcome feeling, of being warm and comfortable. I hadn't felt this good in years, for a moment I almost thought I was back in my old instructor's home, sleeping in my cozy alcove beneath the stairwell, in August's messy apartment.

Then reality came crashing down on me, feeling like an idiot, as I once again became aware of the still unfamiliar, creaking of the old cot in the mirror room, and the dull throbbing of my wrist. Looking around confusedly, I frowned, as I recalled the night before, I had been locked out of my room, hadn't I?

"How in the devil did I get back in here"? I glanced down to see Eric's large amber eyes blinking up at me. Smiling, I pet him softly. "_You _didn't carry me in here, did you boy?" I asked jokingly. He got a strange look in his eyes, as if he knew something I didn't. It made me somewhat uncomfortable.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed I caught sight of what had been keeping me so warm. It was a rather large midnight black cape, with a high silk collar, and a blood-red velvet underlining. I gasped, it was obviously a very expensive bit of clothing, something a rich nobleman might own… but the colors were strangely gothic. From what I have seen nowadays, the aristocratic fashions leaned more in the direction of bright blues, and yellows.

"_What _happened to me last night" I murmured wracking my brain for any clues I might recall. Catching sight of my, decoratively, and in my opinion pointlessly, large skeleton key (it worked for every door in my lonely little hallway) I cheered inwardly. Who ever must have found me, must have also found it, and thus brought me in here. I smiled softly.

"I guess there are kind people here Eric" he cocked his head and mewed sardonically, almost appearing to roll his eyes. I laughed at his silliness, before scooping him off my lap, to get ready.

"If I keep dawdling like this, boy, I'm going to be late to practice". With this thought I hurried through my morning routine. Slipping into today's plain grey dress, I let my mind wander. Yes, being late would ruin my terrifying image to the orchestra, and currently, that was all that was keeping them under control. One slip-up on my part, and I'd lose them all over again. Jerking a comb through my tangled mane of hair, I once again jerked it back into a tight bun. Right now, image, was everything. The more 'no nonsense' I appeared the less 'nonsense' I'd get.

Just as I was about to leave, I once again caught sight of the large velvet cape, spilling haphazardly over the edge of the cot. On a whim, I strode over, scooping it up, I slung it over my shoulders, clasping it firmly about my neck. I was instantly warmer. Turning to admire my reflection in the mirror, I spun once, letting it billow dramatically around my body, its skull shaped clasp glinting dully in the morning light. It did have a certain character to it, and it_ was _warm.

"Well, I'm a woman in a man's world, might as well dress like it" with this, I bid Eric goodbye, and left for the pit, shoulders back, head held high.

/

My day went quite well after that, something about the combination of the

Scary, old, librarian hairstyle, and the ominous high-collared black cape, seems to make everyone want to listen to you. All I had to do upon entering the pit was hold up a hand, and they all fell silent.

Though all the reverent attitudes I received throughout the day were quite welcome, especially in comparison to the day before, I began to get the uncomfortable feeling that something wasn't, quite, right.

For example, once, as I was walking down one of the dimmer lit hallways of the opera, I ran into a small group of gossiping ballet rats, this in itself wasn't odd in the slightest, if it were not for the fact that when I did so, they all ran away screaming variations of, _He's back_, or, _we're all going to die!_

I'm not entirely sure who _he _is, and I'm not entirely sure I really want to know, considering their reactions. If it were warmer out, I would have likely taken it off saving me a lot of trouble, but as it was, I think I'd rather have everyone be terrified of me, than be cold, and miserable. Still what surprised me most, was Carlotta's reaction to my 'new look'.

We were just beginning practice with the singers for the newest opera the managers were trying out,_ Cherevichki,_ a Christmas themed performance, whose gala primer was to be put on Christmas day. After hours of practicing the first aria with the orchestra, we met up with the performers. When Carlotta, who was playing Oksana the female lead, entered onto the stage, and caught sight of me, she completely lost it. Emitting a shrill scream, and then collapsing to the ground, she cowered away from me shrieking.

"_I KNEW IT, I TOLD YOU ALL, SHE'S A DEMON. A DEMON_!" she cried out sobbing uncontrollably, obviously terrified "oh, Piangi my love" she sobbed brokenly "_YOU! You,_ killed him" her mad eyes bored into me.

I stared, bewildered, at the woman, had she completely _lost _it? I looked around to see several other people staring at me, fear in their questioning gaze. I was blessedly thankful the managers were not at the opera house to hear this. I was fairly sure that this counted as unnecessary trouble, and I seemed to be the cause of it. I only prayed that if I could just get things back under control as soon as possible, they wouldn't hear of it.

Feeling somewhat frantic I scrambled up onto the stage, and swiftly made my way over to Carlotta. I attempted to quiet the distraught woman, but, my presence only seemed to make things worse, especially so, when the tearful woman lunged at me, her long-nailed hands curled like claws. I stumbled back in shock, ending up falling flat on my butt. Several other people crowded around the shrieking Italian diva, murmuring soothing words, and otherwise attempting to comfort her. Nothing seemed to help. At least until madam Giry, bless her, slammed her black, silver-tipped cane loudly onto the wood of the stage.

By the last dying echo of the sharp sound, the entire auditorium had fallen silent, save for some quiet sobbing from the still miserable Carlotta. I watched in rapt attention as the imposing woman made her way over to the sobbing diva, her every step echoing with silent authority, it was really quite inspiring.

As she approached, people backed away, I honestly wondered just what she had done in the past, to receive such unquestioned obedience from this theater. The woman had the most perfect air of command about her. Unlike me, she didn't need a fancy cape to demand respect from people.

I watched, as she bent down beside the still fallen diva, there was a soft exchange between them, and something the ballet mistress said must have comforted Carlotta, for the next minuet the old woman stood, and reaching down, she offered a hand to the younger woman, hoisting her up, Several of Carlotta's, oh so faithful groupies took care of the rest, crowding around her and fawning over her. I grimaced with distaste, before turning my attention back to the imperious ballet mistress.

My blood ran cold, when I caught sight of her marching toward me, with a grim expression on her well aged face. What _had_ overstuffed peacock of a diva, told her? She likely made-up some insane story about how I beat her, or something along those lines. My heart sped up, when the woman wrapped her steel-like grip around my forearm and began dragging me backstage. Once we reached a shadowed alcove, located behind the secondary curtain, she released me roughly.

"Ow"! I yelped rubbing my arm, and glaring at her. "What did I do?" She gave me an uncharacteristically fearful look, before griping the edge of the velvet cape tightly.

"Mademoiselle, you _must_ tell me who gave you this cape". She asked me in an urgent whisper, jerking the fabric slightly.

I felt crowded and cornered, as the woman leaned forward. My aching head made me irritable, and my explosive Irish temper decided it was time to rear its ugly head. Jerking back out of her grasp, I straightened my self it my full height (which wasn't much), and looked her in the eye.

"_Excuse me madam!" _I whispered angrily back. How dare she treat me like this when I have done nothing wrong! "I do believe that you have no right to push me around like some errant stagehand, in this opera house, unlike those airheaded performers, you are of no higher status than I. Also, I would appreciate if you would please _get_. _Out. Of. My. Way_!"

I became somewhat desperate when she still did not move. I _needed _to get out of here_, now._ Seeming to sense my discomfort, she gripped my wrist, and dragged me to her office. I was too relived to get away from there to protest. Like a wild animal, I _detest_ being cornered. Plopping down in a faded old loveseat, I waited for her, she had something to say, I could tell. She sat, a soft moan escapeing her chapped lips, I became aware of the deep circles beneath the poor woman's eyes. My anger vanished. replaced with a nagging concern for the woman.

"Madam Giry, are you feeling all right"? She glanced to me with tired amusement.

"You insist that we are equals, yet you still refer to me as Madam"? I shifted awkwardly, and she gave a breathless laugh "but to answer you question child, I am fine, there is nothing _wrong_ with me, I'm just getting old". I looked at her sharply, noting the slight wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, she didn't seem all that old, in fact I'd think she was in her late thirties, were it not for her eyes. Those intelligent gray eyes looked as though they had seen all of the world, and more.

"How old _are _you"? I asked unthinkingly. She raised one perfect eyebrow, and I blushed, realizing just how absolutely_ rude_ that sounded. Thankfully, she didn't remark on it.

After overcoming my embarrassment, I braved another question.

"So…" I paused, adjusting my glasses nervously, "what is it you wished to talk about"? She heaved a sigh.

"I won't ask you again about the cape, it is obvious you do not wish to speak of it, I only wish for you to know that I am merely worried for your safety." I frowned in confusion, but she pressed on. "The opera house is a strange place, and in strange places strange things _do_ happen. I only ask you that you please be careful, the shadows are not as welcoming as they might seem."

"What do you mean"? I leaned forward interested in spite of myself. Glancing around as if worried that someone might overhear us, she whispered. "Those are his colors, and _that" _she pointed to the silver skull clasp "is his mark".

"But _wh_o is he?" I whispered back, her paranoia seemed to be contagious, as my skin crawled with strangest feeling of being watched. Then there was a knock at the door, we both jumped, me, nearly falling from my chair. She began to rise, but I waved her off.

"You sit, I'll get it" I opened the door and was greeted with the sight of bouncing blond curls surrounding a pale heart-shaped face.

"Mother… Oh, I'm sorry. Would you happen to know where I could find Madam Giry, the ballet mistress?" I stared at her for a beat, she looked oddly familiar, and then I realized that she must be madam Giry's daughter.

"She's here. Come in, we were just finishing up" I lied smoothly.

"Oh, thank you very much!" she smiled brightly, and I allowed her to slip past me. Madam Giry's tired voice reached my ears.

"Meg, mon ange, I'm so pleased you're back!" watching the happy family from the door, and I felt emotion squeeze my heart, as old memories returned to haunt me.

"Madam", I called over their pleasant chatter. "I think I'll just go now, if it's all the same to you". She didn't seem to here me, but I left anyway, closing the door, and plunging the hallway into darkness. I blinked confusedly.

"Just how _long_ was I in there"? I sighed beginning the slow trek to my room.

/

Upon entering the unlit room, I shivered; it was like a tomb, silent, and dark. My skin crawled, deciding I wasn't quite ready to go to sleep just yet; I tossed the cape onto the creaky old cot, and grabbed a battered leather folder from underneath it. Then, heading back to the auditorium, I stole a decorative candle on my way, lighting it against one of the glowing wall scones, I placed it on he polished wood surface of the piano.

I glanced around the orchestra pit, the normally cramped space was surprisingly large with all the chairs stacked, and pushed off to the sides.

Pulling the old piano out of its shadowed alcove, I set it up in the middle of the cleared space. Stepping back, I admired the picturesque scene it created, a piano, alone, with a single beam of moonlight, shining against its dark surface. Tracing the light to its source, I discovered a charred hole in the ceiling that I had never noticed before.

Pulling the creaky old piano bench behind me, I sat, my fingers poised above the ivory keys. Opening my folder, I chose a piece of sheet music. The paper was worn, and crinkled, a favorite piece of my own, had been writing it for many years, but it still felt unfinished. Dredging up its first few notes from the shadowy recesses of my mind, I began to play.

/

That night, I very nearly ran the rest of the way to my lair, sitting in front of the first instrument I could lay my hands on, in a desperate attempt to compose. To hear it again, to have my inspiration return to me, that was all I wanted.

It was now, likely late in the afternoon of the next day, and still I sat, unable to fathom how it could flow so freely to me once moment, and be gone the next. I cursed loudly and in a fit of rage I swept my arm across the surface of my organ, scattering papers everywhere, scribbled notes and crossed out phrases lay abandoned on the stone floor.

"Why, _why, _isn't it _working?" _I heard it before, but now it's gone, lost to me again. What is _different?_ The only thing I could think of was… no, that's absurd, it couldn't be… _her. _Could it?That was it!

"She's the key".

Stopping only to straighten my wig, and mask, I left, _I had to see her._

When I reached the surface it was dark, barely taking notice of this, I quickly made my way down to her room, pausing as I reached it, the door was ajar, and the room was empty. I became somewhat worried, she _always _locked her door, or so it seemed until now. Had something happened to her? Then I heard the echoing sound of a piano being played. A smile crossed my face.

Climbing on to the rafters above the stage, I looked down. From here, I had a perfect view of the orchestra pit. There she sat, at the old piano, a leather portfolio open before her, she made a mark on one of the many pages. As she did so I heard the blissful sound of music flowing into my mind, growing stronger as she began to play. I lay back on the thin wooden walkway one arm dangling blissfully over the side. Just as my eyes slid shut, a sudden wrong key jarred me out of my pleasant stupor. I snapped my head around, as I heard a frustrated cry from below.

"DAMMIT!" she slammed another discordant key, this time out of pure aggravation. I could hear how the song was supposed to be, as the invisible notes floated throughout my mind. Confused, I climbed down, dropping the rest of the way, and landing with a quiet thud in the shadows of the stage. I watched, as she again attempted to play the song. Starting from the beginning, she played the melody, but as soon as the reached the section from before, something very strange happened.

She missed a key, one that she could have easily played by simply pressing down with her right index finger. Instead of doing this, she made a desperate attempt to reach it with her ring finger, of all things, the awkward motion causing her to gasp in pain as she overextended her injured wrist. I briefly wondered how she hurt it, but my attention was drawn back to her face as she began to whisper to herself, her shoulders bowed over the keys, in a position I knew well.

"- thought I could do it this time, thought that maybe, just maybe he would let me this once. I'm such a fool, if I couldn't to it then, I _certainly_ can't do it now" she sounded _so,_ heartbroken. I had the inexplicable urge to comfort her. I knew how she felt, to be denied your art, it was unbearable.

She tore off her ever-present leather glove, and I started in shock, strapped to her hand was a wooden prosthetic of her first two fingers. I watched with morbid fascination as she fumbled with the thin leather straps, removing the offending object she placed it on the piano, my eyes widened at the gruesome sight, though obviously long healed, the puckered white scars that marked the partial stump of her hand looked to have once been a _very_ brutal wound.

Pulling out a small bottle of thick, milky-white cream she smeared it over her scars in a thick layer. Taking the wooden prosthetic she replaced it. The padded edge curving around the mutilated side of her delicate hand, and redoing the straps, one in-between her ring, and pinky fingers, the other resting against the outward curve of her palm. Her leather glove only completed the falsehood.

Just, _what_ had happened to this girl? My heart lurched with sympathy as a single tear streaked its way down her porcelain cheek.

"Only a fool would do the same thing twice and expect a different result each time" she berated herself, anger in her harsh tone. Despite this, her hands were gentle as she slid the music sheets back into their overstuffed leather casing. Then she left, taking the music with her… hers, and mine.

**Aww it's over already :( oh well, if I get at least 7 reviews, I'll try and get the next one up as soon as possible. Thank you all for reading, even you my silent readers, and tell me what you think (I'd really like to hear your opinions on my writing style, it would a lot to me), also I'm still looking for a much needed beta reader. Till next time.**

**-Your humble servant, Noose**


	5. Chapter 4

**Heyo I'm back, **

**I am very sorry for the long wait, but it's not my fault. If I were you I'd blame every single one of my silent readers. In case you didn't notice before, I always, at the end of every chapter, post a required amount of reviews, whether they are positive, negative, or just a bunch of random gibberish, I require a certain amount to post the next chapter. I am very disappointed that I had to wait so long for just seven reviews, it got to the point that I decided to count my PM's as well, to all of you who **_**did**_** review, michellecarriveau (2+ I PM message), kittylover (1), guest (1), Willothewisp62 (1), Poetam (1), and Dooka1999 (1 PM message). Thank you all, your continued support is greatly appreciated. Now, without further adieu, your chapter, ladies and gentlemen, **_**Enjoy**_**.**

As days turned into weeks I made it my nightly routine that after everyone was asleep, I would come to the auditorium, and compose. This endeavor inevitably led to playing the piano, the source of my endless frustration. So often I went to bed angry and miserable, but I got things done. I didn't _always_ compose either, sometimes I would sing, or mock Carlotta's prissy Italian accent, and sometimes I would just lie there, staring up at the charred hole in the ceiling, as the moon shone down on the sleeping city.

Eric sometimes liked to join me. Lately he had developed to odd habit of hissing furiously at random shadows. I found it quite cute, but if he caught me laughing he would give me the dirtiest look, consequentially only making me want to laugh more.

Thus went my downtime, evenings spent enjoying my self, all alone in the dark. If it sounds lonely, that is because it is, horribly, terribly, incredibly, lonely, but I was used to it. I had to be, most of my adult life had been spent this way. I had never been good at making friends, especially after my..._accident. _I found it very hard to trust people after _that;_ anyone would, if they had been through what I had.

The progress on _Cherevichki, _was coming along beautifully, even Carlotta's overdone singing voice couldn't ruin it for me. As it turns out, word _had _gotten to the managers about Carlotta's little tantrum, and my role in it, but thankfully my job was safe. I was called in by the manager, but I was met with a different man this time, he was older than the previous manager I had encountered, with frizzy white hair and a funny face that seemed perpetually worried about something or another. I got out of the short ordeal with what could only be called a slap on the wrist and a short warning not to let it happen again.

Now I stood leaning against the stage, my head in my hand, daydreaming as Carlotta's Italian accent rang through the theater, as she complained loudly to the costume mistress about her dress. It seemed that until now she had not realized that the lead role of Oksana, being a peasant girl, required her to wear a simple brown dress, with little adornment.

To say the woman hated it, was an understatement, I had to resist the urge to plug my ears like one of the cleaning ladies, as her shrill Italian curses echoed against the high ceilings of the opera house.

"I will not wear these rags! I am the lead. I should shine like a star. I refuse to dress like some street-side whore!** You, you, ****_figlio di puttana_**! I _will _not stand here, and be slandered in this way." As amusing as this conversation was I felt sorry for the poor woman on the receiving end, she was nice enough, if not a bit talkative. Glancing over to them I noticed the woman looked to be near tears.

Alright, enough was enough, I decided, hoisting my self up onto the stage, and heading over to the pair. As I approached, Carlotta's rant died in her throat, as a fearful look entered her eyes. The woman still had not gotten over her fear after seeing me in that cape, I had to stop wearing it for fear of setting her off again, and ending up out on the streets because of it. Thankfully, it had warmed up a bit in the past few weeks and I no longer needed to clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. I never really found out why she had been so afraid, madam Giry never got around to telling me, in fact, if I didn't know better I'd say she was avoiding me.

We also have a new prima ballerina, as it turns out, the day before I was hired, la Sorelli the previous prima ballerina had quit, apparently unable to deal with Carlotta's drama any longer. Until now there had been none talented enough in the ballet corps to take her place. Madam Giry had penned a letter to her daughter, Marguerite who had, about a year before, been recruited into the Kirov ballet, a world renowned traveling ballet troupe who had preformed at the theater last spring. Now she was back, at her mother's request, to take Sorelli's place, as the prima donna of the ballet.

Returning to the task at hand, I gave Carlotta a stern look.

"If I recall correctly ,we have had a conversation very similar to this before, Mrs.Giudicelli, _and_ I do think I remember you promising me that there would be no more trouble from you, am I right?" the woman's eyes were wide with an almost comical expression of fear on her heavily made up face. An evil smirk pulled at my lips as I decided to play it up a bit " I could always ask _him _to come and show you your place" she was literally shaking so bad I was surprised she didn't topple over in her needle thin heels. "But of course I'm _sure _that wont be necessary… now will it?" she shook her head fervently.

I wanted to laugh so bad it hurt, she actually _believed _that, I didn't even know who _he _was and I already liked him. After all as a wise man once said, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Taking the simple brown dress from the still petrified costume mistress, I pressed it into Carlotta's arms.

"Now why don't you go change, and we can forget this ever happened, ok?" she nodded dazedly, and at my gentle prodding she tottered off stage. Breathing a sigh of relief I headed back to the conductors podium, to begin warm up scales with the orchestra.

/

I was obsessed, there was no other word for it, and in the past month my desire for the music had only grown stronger the more I received. I still could only hear it when I was around her, it had actually gotten to the point now, as I watched her from the shadowy upper-rafters of the stage, that I was no longer satisfied with just sitting in on her nightly escapades to the auditorium. I wanted _more, _and what the opera ghost wanted, the opera ghost would get, even if I had to take it by force. Oh yes, she _would_ be mine, whether she liked it or not. I led out a low chuckle as I listened in on her conversation with the aggravating Italian diva, the music it created was lighthearted, but with a mischievous quality to it as well. I smiled devilishly as I heard her threaten to call _me_ to put the egotistical woman in her place.

"Oh dear Evelyn, you only need to ask, I'd be _happy _to" I laughed retreating into the shadows as I heard someone approach. I heard heavy breath as they stopped to catch their breath.

"Erik" madam Giry gasped in-between breaths "I know you're there". I growled softly in irritation "I thought _madam_, that you weren't speaking to me, after all you told me so yourself". She scoffed shaking her head slightly.

"never mind that, I want to know your intentions for mademoiselle Monroe, you told me yourself that you wanted her gone, yet now I find, not only is she _still _in Christine's room, but she also has one of you capes in her possession" I seethed quietly at the mention of Christine's name, "I want to know _what happened_?".

"You forget your place madam Giry" I stepped toward her my taller frame looming over her. My intimidation tactic seemed to work as she shrank back a little. Thinking the conversation was over I turned to leave the infuriating woman. "Wait!" she placed a hand on my shoulder, it was shaking. I jerked away angrily "this conversation is over madam, it would be unwise to push me further. I am liable to do something I might regret". She stepped back, shock painted clearly across her face. I had never threatened her before, yelled at her yes, but never threatened. I felt a small flicker of remorse, which only served to anger me further.

"Good day _madam_" I snapped, leaving the bewildered old woman to stare after me, as I disappeared, soundlessly, into the shadows of the theater.

/

I was being followed, I could feel it, hear it as the music of my mind began to change picking up speed in a suspenseful beat. My heart beat loudly in my ears, the dark hallway was disturbingly quiet and still. Suddenly I heard a shuffled footstep from somewhere behind me. I quickened my pace I heard them match me, there was definitely someone behind me. I began to run, inevitably the footsteps followed, and they were swiftly gaining, I could hear the man's heavy breathing as he gained on me. It had to be a man. No woman could have such heavy, echoing steps. I wasn't going to beat him, it wasn't possible, and fear soured my breath, the music rushed in shrieking minor notes that left my ears ringing. But just as I took a breath to scream, a gloved hand shot out of the shadows covering my mouth and jerking me back into a dark passageway. I watched in breathless fear as Henri the lead bass came to a stop just in front of our hiding place, he was playing the role of Mephistopheles in_ Cherevichki, _well he definitely looked the part of the devil now, still clad in his ragged costume, the pig-like demons mask covering the lower part of his face, he cursed loudly, and I had to stifle a scream when the punched the wall next to us in frustration.

His eyes were black with fury, and I prayed that he wouldn't hear the frantic beating of my heart. But after a moment he left. As soon as he passed from view I began to strain to see my captor, he held me tightly against him his iron grip keeping me from turning around, I struggled a bit, panicking as he dragged me back further into the dark passageway, the opening slid shut cutting us off from the rest of the opera house. I struggled again in his grasp, and the man whispered in my ear.

"I wouldn't to that if I were you, I could kill you right now if I chose, but I'd rather it not come to that". I stilled, fear turning my blood to ice, out of the frying pan and into the fire mused the clam collected part of my brain.

"See, that wasn't so hard now, was it"? He purred in my ear again his hot breath warming my neck, I shivered.

The unknown man pulled me along unresisting through dark passageway after dark passageway until I was sure we must have been miles beneath the opera house, my eyes widened in shock as I caught sight of the small gondola floating innocently on what could only be called a lake. What was a _lake_ doing miles beneath a Paris opera house? More over what was with all these tunnels, I never recalled hearing about catacombs running throughout the opera house, in fact I was surprised they weren't filled in, it had to have been very difficult to build a foundation, especially for such a magnificent building, on top of all these tunnels. There was no way the original builders could have missed them. As we made our way across the still black lake my captor was forced to release me to guide the boat, he faced away from me using a long wooden paddle to guide us, staring at his back I took note of his broad shoulders, and thin but still muscular build, he was also very tall. I swallowed thickly; this man outmatched me physically in every way. My breathing began to come in ragged gasps, as I peered over the edge of the narrow boat. He had tied my hands, but perhaps I could still swim back, it didn't look very deep.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, I would hate to have to pull you out all bloodied up from my little friends" I saw a ripple in the still water, as something very large passed beneath the boat. "Normally they eat fish but you would make a lovely side dish, I'm sure". I jerked back, feeling a trickle of sweat down the back of my neck. The underground lake didn't seem so _innocent_ anymore. I jumped, as the boat's side hit land, causing the light draft to rock wildly from side to side, making me mildly sick. I looked up just in time, to see my captor leap gracefully from the craft, in a practiced motion. My heart sunk, as he chained the little gondola to a rusty iron ring, driven deep into the stone floor, so much for escaping by boat.

I got my first real look at my captor, when he reached out a hand to help me up. He was undoubtedly handsome, the white half-mask covering the right side of his face, only adding an air of mystery to him. I took in his aristocratic appearance, from the expensive quality of his black silk cravat, and red vest, to the neatly slicked back appearance of his midnight black hair, oh, yes he certainly had style.

I glared at him before smacking away his hand, he looked hurt, and I almost felt bad. Of course, until I remembered that he had _kidnapped _me against my will, and trapped me down here with him, to do who knows what. A shiver of terror shot through me, as I clumsily dragged myself out of the rocking boat, thoroughly soaking the hem of my dress in the process. I stood and faced the masked man.

"What do you want with me?" I am ashamed to admit my voice broke at the end of that sentence, despite his handsome exterior, all I felt when I gazed at this man was fear and anger, he had done little the persuade me otherwise. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, as he began to laugh, low and dark, the mad sound echoing off the curving stone walls of the cavern.

"Dear Evelyn, all I wish from you, is your _continued_ presence in my humble abode". I could tell he knew that I wouldn't just roll over, and give up, but this only seemed to excite him, as he made his way over to the immense, custom pipe organ climbing the stone of the back wall.

"So that's how it going to be" I murmured staring at the broad expanse of his back.

_Then let the games begin. _

**Ooh, how exciting, I love the next chapter. Hopefully it will be coming ****soon****. This time I will only ask for 3 reviews (and yes, they **_**can **_**all be from the same person, and **_**will, **_**include PM messages.)**__**so please help your lonely author**, **"**_**I'm dying, here in the dark, give me breath, give me light, review for me, or I will take from you all that you have ever loved"… **_**hmmm that may have been slightly over dramatic, but I am serious **_**(**_**aside from the **_**"I will take from you all that you have ever loved"**_** part**_) _**please review! I also have a little challenge for you all, a friend gave me this idea, I want you to guess my age from the way I write. The closest guess will get a chapter dedicated to them (sorry that's really all I can give you people), Farewell.**

**-Your humble servant, Noose **


	6. Chapter 5

**Hello everyone, I'm back big thanks to poetam, ****michellecarriveau****, and Person (I'm sorry, I never got your review until now) , you may thank them for todays chapter. Also poetam, this chapter made me think of you, I hope you like how I've integrated Meg into the story, hopefully she will be getting a lot more screen time as we go on. Enjoy!**

As soon as his back was to me, I shot off, fleeing franticly down the nearest shadowy passage. The music of my mind began to climb, and my heart pounded in the tempo of the bass, fast, and desperate. I had to get out of here, the stone walls felt as if they were closing in around me, a familiar sensation that I had hoped never feel again. The words were out of my mouth before I knew it, soaring in the beautiful acoustics of the stone catacombs.

"_I have been this way before. Check each window, every door" _every tunnel was becoming familiar, was I just going in circles? "_For a passage through this night" _Am I lost in this never ending labyrinth? "_This night…"_running, I found my self heading towards a light, only to find my self back where I started, candles, replacing sun light. "_But each hallway ends the same_" a tear streaked my face. "_Every door's been checked in vain_" I pounded desperately on a locked door, one of many "_For a way to reach that light_" I took a deep breath "_that light_…" heading back to the organ room, I promised myself I wouldn't beg, currently my pride was all I had left. "_As I move in deeper, towards this castle's keeper, every stair seems steeper._" I sang trying my hardest to keep my voice from shaking, thus betraying my weakness. I began to feel dizzy, looking down the short stairway between me and my ambiguous captor. They seemed to stretch on forever. I removed my glasses to rub at my eyes. "_Am I risking my own life?" _my voice broke, and I sunk down against the cold stone wall "My life…" I whispered, unable continue. The music, amplified by the deafening notes of the pipe organ, overwhelmed me, and I gave in, drowning in the beautiful sound.

/

I felt like a man who had been lost in the desert, only now finding water. The music flowed through me, as I played, losing my self in a blissful ecstasy. Dimly, I noticed Evelyn running down a tunnel, but I paid her no heed. There was no way out, not from here, I had blocked off any passages that led to the surface. No matter what she did she would end up back here. The only other way was the lake, and swimming in that would be suicide. I do not know how long I played. I was unable to stop, even to write down a few of the interweaving chords. Though eventually my growling stomach made itself known, forcing myself away from the organ, I went in search of food.

I found some old provisions, brought down some time ago by madam Giry. I ate my fill, and then made up another plate for Evelyn. _Evelyn_!

"Damn where is she" she couldn't have escaped, no, that was impossible, I could still hear the music, a slow piano melody, echoing in my ears. Searching the room, I caught sight of her curled up against the wall, her face pressed against her knees.

"Evelyn" I called to her, in what I hoped was a gentle voice. She did not respond, becoming irritated I called again, "Evelyn you must be hungry, _come eat_". She didn't move. Growling under my breath I put her plate on a near by table. Dropping it with a little more force than necessary, I stalked back to my organ.

She was only being stubborn, but she would get over it. She would have to, because she wasn't leaving, she could learn to like it down here. Currently though, it was give in, or starve. Even _she_ couldn't be that stubborn.

I wasn't sure how much time passed by now, but as it progressed, the music grew more, and more heartbreaking. I did not realize I was crying, until spots began appearing amongst the staff lines of my current composition. At first I wondered if the ceiling was leaking, but I dismissed the idea s soon as it came, especially so, when I wiped at my eyes and my hand came away wet. I swallowed hard, the sad notes didn't end. They bombarded my mind, dredging up old memories, _painful_ memories.

"_Christine" _I whispered. Tears mingled with ink, turning my newest work into an unrecognizable mess. Why was it so sad, I looked around, my gaze alighting upon the small quivering figure, sitting huddled against the wall at the top of the stair. As if pulled by some invisible force, I went to her.

Crouching on one knee, I looked to see her once vibrant red hair was limp, and lifeless. It draped across her shoulders, doing nothing to conceal the gray pallor of her skin. She looked drained, as if something vital to her had been taken, a shadow of her usual self.

Then it hit me, it wasn't that she was the key to _my_ music, it was _her_ music that I had been hearing all along, that explained the different style, with its heavier bass, and it's fast paced complex melodies. _My_ music was unreachable as the day Christine left me, I felt a deep stab of disappointment, but it was quickly smothered in a terrible guilt.

I had been stealing her music, I of all people should know that music like this, if you possess it, it becomes your life blood, to have that taken from you, against your will, that is a crime as grave as the murder of a child. Only once before, had I felt more of a monster than I did now. What gave me the right, the right to take something so precious, from someone so innocent, so obviously scarred, inside, _and_ out.

"Please forgive me" I whispered to the catatonic girl. I knew she hadn't eaten, the meal I had set out for her lay abandoned on the table, the cheese showing signs of mold. It had to have sat there for at least two days. I had to get her out of here, at this rate both from lack of food, and her disturbingly coma-like functioning, she could die. I gently slid my arms beneath her frail body. Standing, I held her close to my chest. When I glanced down I caught sight of her eyes, they were wide open behind her wire rimmed glasses, yet remained dull, and sightless, lacking their usual bright sparkle. I felt another stab of worry, the only indication that she was still alive, was the slight rise and fall of her chest. I placed her gently in the gondola. Unchaining it, I began to row.

Reaching her room, through the two way mirror, I noticed the fine layer of dust that had settled over everything. It had been disturbed in places, and her belongings were gone, thankfully the old cot remained. Placing her on it, I discovered the cape I had given her before, in the old armoire. Pulling it out, I tucked it around her shivering body.

Writing a quick note, I placed it on the divan. In absence of my usual seal, I propped the note up, and scrawled her name in large letters across the front. Just as I was about to leave, I stopped, turning back to her I allowed my hand to hover a moment, before brushing her long curling bangs away from her forehead. On a whim, I leaned forward, and brushed my lips against her brow, she smelled faintly sweet, in a pleasant way. Coming to my senses I jerked back _what was I doing?_ I shook my head, suddenly tired.

"Goodnight _Mon ange, _sleep well… You need not fear me. I will not bother you any longer". This was the last thing I whispered, before heading through the mirror, and closing it soundlessly behind me.

/

I awoke as though from a deep sleep, my eyelids were heavy, and my every movement felt weighted. Then suddenly it hit me, my memories came rushing back. I had been kidnapped by a masked man, and I was trapped miles beneath the opera house! I shot up out if bed, and blinked blearily in the morning sun.

Wait… sun? I rubbed my eyes, accidently knocking my glasses to the floor. Had it all been a dream? Placing my glasses back on the bridge of my nose, my vision cleared, and I found my self staring at a note on the divan, on the front, in large scrolling letters, was my name. I gasped; someone had been in my room! Reaching for the note, I carefully unfolded the stiff parchment, and read…

_Dear Maestro Evelyn, _

_I offer my sincerest apologies for abducting you as I did._

_I must confess I was not in my right mind. What I did was wrong and cruel, and I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me of my misdemeanor. I can assure you that if you are reading this, then you will recover from your ordeal just fine._

_ In regards to your position in the opera populair, I can promise you that I have already spoken to the managers about your extended absence, rest assured your career is not in jeopardy because of me. As for the future, you will not need to worry about them replacing you out of convenience. Should they try it, they will have to deal with me._

_Once more I apologize, and I promise, you do not need to fear me. I will not harass you again. _

_~O.G._

I stood in shocked silence for several moments.

"It wasn't a dream then", I blinked dazedly. Backing up, I sat down heavily, causing the old cot to protest loudly.

I jumped, as the loud screeching sound knocked me forcibly from my stupor. Glancing at the sun, I guessed it was around late morning, I had better get going if I was to get anything done today. I wasn't about to sit here, and wallow in my own self pity. I went to change my wrinkled dress, only to find that my belongings were missing, I growled in frustration.

Digging through the drawers of the vanity that lay pushed into the corner, I found and old wooden comb, only missing a few of its teeth. Combing out my wild hair, I then dug around in the great wooden armoire, where I had once kept the phantoms cape. I recalled seeing several dresses hanging in it, gathering dust. I hadn't messed with them because they were all too fancy for me. Though currently, I would do just about anything to get out of this grimy wrinkled old outfit, it was beginning to feel a little _too_ lived-in for me.

Rifling through the dresses I found the simplest one that looked as though it would fit me. It was a bright olive green color, slightly faded by time. The embroidered swirls were a bit extravagant for my taste, but I shrugged, it was better than nothing. Changing, and tying my hair into a tight braid, I opened the door.

As I exited, something small, brown, and furry launched itself at me. I yelped and stumbled back in surprise, as the thing sank sharp claws into my bodice. Then, I recognized what the little monster really was, it was Eric. Easing his sharp claws from my dress, I cradled him in my arms, stroking him softly. He mewed at me pitifully, his amber eyes shining with undisguised relief. Then, to my great surprise someone else came barreling down the hall, my newest attacker came in the form of a curly haired blond girl.

"Oh, thank god your ok, Where have you been?" the girl, of whom I recognized as Marguerite Giry, looked at me with large earnest blue eyes. Then she glanced down at Eric and smiled "good boy, you found her." she pet him gently on the head, and he purred arching up into her hand, begging for more. I blinked in shock, Eric hated strangers, and he was just _letting_ this girl pet him? _When did logic die? _I mourned silently, as a headache began to form behind my temples.

"Excuse me, maestro Monroe, are you all right?" I opened my eyes to stare into her pleasant sky blue ones.

"Hmm? Oh yes" I blinked blearily. "I just feel terribly confused all of the sudden… tell me, how do you know Eric?" she blushed, her cheeks turning a light pink.

"Oh, my apologies, I take it that this" she indicated the purring traitor in my arms, "is Eric" I nodded "well you see, when you disappeared, I found him by your door. He was meowing terribly loud, I heard him all the way down in the kitchens. So, you see, I felt bad for him, he looked so sad." I raised my eye brow, not many people noticed Eric's subtle emotions, most just thought him to be a dumb animal. "So I took him down to the kitchens, and gave him a little treat, to help cheer him up. One of the cooks mentioned that they had seen you in there before, with him, so that's how I came to assume that he was your cat. When you didn't return though, I just took him in. Though I assure you, he has spent every day since you left, sitting by this door waiting, only coming to my room late in the night". My lips parted in silent aw, _my loyal companion_. I held up a hand to stop her.

"Thank you, for everything, you have no idea how much that means to me". She smiled kindly.

"You look hungry, how about we head to the kitchens to get you some food, and then you can tell me where you've been, our little friend here's worrying habits seem to be contagious, I've been worried sick." As she said this, my stomach lurched, I clutched at my abdomen, as Eric leapt from my arms. I was _starving,_ the ballerina hooked her arm through mine, guiding me in the direction of the kitchens. I felt the strangest, sensation of happiness rise within me.

_Was this what it felt like to have a friend? _

**Big shout out to Poetam, who originally gave me the idea of putting Meg into the story, she has been a big help. Also the song Evelyn sings is a part of ****'****Night Castle****'**** by TSO though if you do decide to listen to it, keep in mind that a girl would be singing it, with a Christine-like operatic voice, and that there would be a lot less guitar because of the time period. Really I just love the lyrics. Also, the use of the electric guitar with the orchestral music brings to mind the phantom of the opera main theme, when he takes Christine behind the mirror. Anyway thank you all for reading, and **_**please **_**review, I **_**need **_**reviews, or I might go catatonic like Evelyn does without her music. Then you****'****d never find out what happens next (oh the horror) ;)**

**Ps; keep the guesses on my age coming, this is a **_**challenge!**_

_**(5 reviews to post, if I don**__**'**__**t post as soon as I get them, I apologize, it is because I haven't finished.)**_

**-Your humble servant, Noose**


	7. Chapter 6

** Wow, you guys review faster than I can write, I think I'm going to either up the review requirement or toss it all together. Though, I am afraid that if I do that you guys wont review as much *sob*. Also I tell you this, I found this chapter kind of hard to write… not sure why, maybe it's because Erik's not in it *another sob*. Oh well, it was still necessary to the plot, I guess every story as its slow moments. Also I'm going to keep the little are guessing contest going until someone gets it exactly right, there have been some really close ones (if it takes too long though I'll just pick the closest). Also I appreciate everyone who reviewed, you guys rock, and without further adieu, your chapter.**

"Dear god Andre, he's back. If the de Chagny's find out about this, we'll never reinstate their patronage!"

"Not so loud firmin, he could hear you, besides, we just won't tell them, as long as we do as he says…"

"Within reason" the snowy haired old man interjected.

"Of course", the taller one agreed, with a nod of his head "as I was saying, as long as we do as he says, he won't bother us".

"Yes… but the girl, I don't want this turning into another Daaé fiasco"

"It_ won't_, if he decides to take the girl, we'll let him. We can always get another conductor. She's really of no importance to us. If she disappears again, we can just hush it up and move on as always. Besides, she doesn't seem to make friends very well, no one would miss her." Fears somewhat assuaged, the frazzled white haired gentleman nodded, while the other patted his back comfortingly.

/

I've never tasted something so delicious in my life!" my companion chuckled at my antics.

"slow down, your going to suffocate, It's only a sandwich, it's not worth dying for." she cut off in a fit of giggles, I found my self joining her with my own chuckle, muffled by the remains of my sandwich that I quickly shoved in my mouth. "You act like you haven't eaten in days". With out looking up I replied.

"I haven't" she blinked in surprise.

"That's right, you never told me where you went, you were gone for almost a week". I choked, and began coughing violently. She jumped and fumbled to hand me a glass of water. I took several greedy gulps to sooth my throat before speaking.

"A _week?_ It felt like I only gone for a night at most, I hardly remember a thing…" I trailed off, a worried expression clouding my face. "The last thing I remember is…this is going to sound crazy, but I swear I drowned in music".

"You…_what?" _I blushed with embarrassment.

"I told you it sounded crazy, but that's the most accurate description for it. It felt like music was a physical substance… swirling around me, it moved like waves in an ocean taking me with it. I couldn't see a thing, and then I woke up in my room lying on my bed". I didn't mention the fact that I heard music all the time, though not as oppressive as the kind I heard in the underground lair, she would definitely think I was crazy if I told her _that_.

"To be honest it sounds like some insane nightmare, but I know for a fact that you _were_ missing." I gave her a worried look.

"I'm not crazy" she smiled.

"I never said you were. If I may ask…_where _exactly did you go?" I gave her a sidelong look, she sat, her hands clasped in her lap, as she awaited my answer. I swallowed awkwardly, I really didn't think she'd believe me if I told her the truth, I wanted to tell the truth, I really did, but I also didn't want her calling the asylum on me. If the answer to her question sounded mad in my head, it would sound even worse out loud. I sighed heavily.

"I don't really want to talk about it right now". She seemed to visibly deflate, I felt bad, but I didn't want to lie to her. "It's not like I don't want to tell you, it's just kind of hard…" _god this was awkward._

"That's all right, I understand" the look in her baby blue eyes told me she really didn't, but she was willing to let it go. I let out a breath of relief.

"Thank you…" as much as I wanted to trust her with this, I couldn't. She suddenly grinned, as mischievous look crossing her pale face. I blinked, feeling somewhat uneasy. "What?" her smile grew wider.

"You might want to turn around, a certain someone is defiling your food" I spun around to see Eric with his paw in my salad.

"Eric!" he sent a carrot spinning in my direction. I swatted at him but he evaded me leaping to the floor with a piece of my chicken, still dripping dressing, hanging from his mouth. I stood threateningly and he scampered off with his prize, disappearing into the gloom of the old theater. I slumped back into my chair, pouting at the wreaked remains of my salad, it was torn apart, the meat was gone, and everything was speckled with brown cat hair.

I heard a snort somewhere to my left. I let my head loll back on my shoulders to see Meg, her hand covering her mouth, while her face grew red from the stifled giggles. I glowered at her, and she lost it. Gleeful laughter rang through the room. Her happiness was contagious, as I found myself joining in her mirth. As our wild laughter died down to a few sparing giggles, I once again felt that strange sense of companionship fill me will a comforting warmth.

She glanced over at the wall clock, "oh my, I'm going to be late to ballet practice, mother will kill me!" I nodded in agreement.

"Yes, I should probably find the managers to tell them I'm back". I stood and gathered my plates, "goodbye Meg". She didn't move. I glanced at her curiously.

"Hey, we should do this again… have lunch I mean, I don't exactly have many friends here anymore, they all seem to have left while I was gone, I guess we've all just moved on with life". Needless to say, I was touched. It wasn't often that someone actually wanted to spend time with me. In fact, these days it was usually just me and Eric against the world.

"I'd like that".

/

For the rest of that day, that week for the matter, people tip toed around me, as though, through one wrong move, I'd turn into a monster and eat them. It was infuriating, for sure, but seeing Meg at lunch made it all worth it, she'd let me vent, then she'd sympathize, and we'd move on with life. It had been so long since I'd had a friend like that, I was surprised at how easy it was. We'd meet for lunch every day, sometimes Eric would join us, and we'd complain to each other, we'd sympathize, and we'd laugh about it. Yes… everything just seemed to be perfect, except, that is; I couldn't stop thinking about _him. _

Every time I'd stop, even just for the briefest moment, thoughts of him would flood my mind. I couldn't keep my self from pondering on the mystery of the masked man. True he had kidnapped me, held me against my will, and somehow kept me unconscious for five days, but he also brought me back. He'd apologized, and secured my job. If it weren't for him, I might never have become friends with Meg! It confused me endlessly why I couldn't just forget about the incident, after all he told me he wouldn't bother me any more…

"Argg!" I banged my head against the rough wood of the table.

"Evelyn, what's wrong? You've been preoccupied all day." I sighed heavily, the sound muffled by the hard wood of the table. I sat up, and slumped back in my chair.

"Your right, I guess I'm jus t a little frustrated". She frowned and drummed her nails against the table, I didn't meet her eyes. Of course she knew that I was avoiding her question.

"Well, what ever it is it's been eating away at you for days, don't think I haven't noticed how distant you've been." Her voice softened as she leaned forward and placed her hand on top of mine. "I worry about you sometimes, you think you're so tough and you don't need anyone, but the truth is, even the strongest of people need someone to talk to". She glanced at the old wall clock and sighed heavily. "Looks like times up" she stood and gathered her plates.

I watched her in silence, processing what she said, a guarded expression on my face. Just at she was about to leave she turned "if you ever want to talk, come find me… ok?" I nodded and she gave me a weak smile.

After she left, I got up from my chair, feeling terribly sluggish. Blearily I gathered my half eaten salad and whent to clean up. I had given the orchestra the rest of the day off, call me selfish but I was exhausted. I stumbled down the hall to my room and collapsed onto the small bed. I was out in seconds.

When I awoke, the sky outside was dark, and the only sound to be heard was the soft creaking of the old building, and the stray cricket chirp. I pursed my lips, I hadn't meant to stay so long, and because of it, there was no way I was going to get back to sleep anytime soon.

I made up my mind to go play the piano. Leaving, I noticed Eric sprawled out on the vanity chair, fast asleep, I smiled, _best leave him be, I'll go alone._ I entered into the darkened hallway and shut the door behind me as quietly as possible. In the dark the shadows seemed to move, making my skin crawl and my heart race. In the logical part of my mind I knew there was nothing there that could harm me, but that didn't stop my imagination from conjuring up images of mass murders, and vengeful demons. I quickened my pace until I ran to the better lit hallway. leading to the auditorium. Out of breath I shook my head at my own foolishness.

Entering the cavernous room, I found the strangest sight. Upon the stage was Meg, dancing. Her eyes were closed blissfully as she twirled and leapt, her silk clad feet barely making a sound against the hard wood stage. I had never truly gotten to see Meg's talent in full, but this was incredible. No wonder she was prima ballerina…

Then I had an idea, a smile crept across my face as I tip toed into the pit. Keeping my eyes on the dancing girl, I sat at the piano and began to play.

At first she didn't seem to notice, but when she did she thudded to a stop. Collapsing to her knees, her head whipped from side to side franticly searching the darkened theater. I stood and clapped for her.

"Bravo, bravo". Her head snapped over to me, her eyes wide with surprise. She breathed a sigh of relief, placing a hand to her heart as she spoke.

"Dear lord Evelyn, don't do that, you nearly scared the life out of me" I grinned

"What, did you think I was a ghost?" she gave me a strange look, but I dismissed it. Theater people were superstitious, Meg was no exception. I climbed onto the stage and held out a hand to help the girl up "I'm sorry if I scared you… after all we can't have our prima ballerina breaking her ankle so close to opening night. Christmas is only a week away."

"Where's the time gone" she sighed dramatically, before taking on a more serious expression, "now Evelyn, did you think about what I said earlier?" I froze, it was true I had thought about it, I wanted to tell her, but my heart didn't trust so simply, _a heart once broken is not easily repaired. _Making up my mind I turned to her.

"Do you have a moment?" she grinned.

"I have _more _than a moment" and so I told her of my kidnapping, how I had literally been smuggled miles beneath the opera house by a masked man, I told her of how I tried to escape…

"You remember how I told you that I felt like I was drowning, drowning in music?"

"Yes… I recall, though I still do not understand what you meant" I thought fast, not ready to reveal my oddity, the music that played in tune to my emotions.

"He played the organ, and it was so beautiful, incredible really…" it wasn't a lie, just not the whole truth. She nodded.

"Ok…" I took notice of the growing alarm showing on her pale face.

"As for what's been bothering me… its ridicules, really, but I'm just so curious." I paused "when I woke up, there was a letter, from him, on my divan." I pulled the object of interest from a pocket sewn into my dress and handed it to her. "Here, read it". She did, and I could _see_ the blood drain from her face. She began to shake, and the letter slipped from her fingers.

"Opera ghost…" she spun to me gripping me tightly by the shoulders, staring into my eyes, she spoke urgently "_Evelyn, _listen to me you must stay away from that man, he's very dangerous. I don't want to see you get hurt… or worse." I blinked in surprise, before shaking her off.

"See, that's the thing, I have no doubt that man could be bad news, he certainly seemed dangerous when he dragged me off, but he also saved me. Who knows what Henri might have done if he had caught me instead."

"But Evelyn he _kidnapped_ you, what if you never came back, you could have died!"

"But I didn't, that's what bothers me. Why kidnap me, only to let me go? He could have easily ended my life, after all I was unconscious for over two days, it would have been far more convenient to kill me, but instead he brought me back, he secured my job. Hell, if it weren't for him we likely wouldn't be friends right now!" she stared at me with something akin to horror. I became somewhat irritated; _she _was supposed to be the understanding one. "It's not logical, if he was truly a cold blooded killer as you seem to think, he would have just killed me, but instead he showed kindness, compassion, he regretted his actions."

"He could have lied, it's only a letter" she sounded unsure, and I pushed my advantage.

"But why would he, he would have nothing to gain from lying to me, it's a mystery and it fascinates me. It's like a story just waiting to be told" I stared at her intently, and was instantly disappointed. She didn't believe me. Her blue eyes still held that same look of horror as before, now as well as concern. My temper flared.

"This was obviously a mistake, I should never have come here, you obviously do not wish to hear what I have to say so I'll just let you be" I stood to leave.

"Evelyn wait" she placed a hand on my arm. I jerked away violently.

"NO! Just…leave me be". She pulled away a hurt expression on her face, I had never yelled at her before. I turned away, clenching my fists against the onslaught of guilt threatening to crash over me. "Goodbye… meg" with that I left. Walking faster and faster until I ran from the room.

I didn't stop until I reached my own room, it was predictable sure, but I did not think she would follow me, not after that. I felt terrible, cursing my temper; I collapsed onto my cot, making it creak ominously. Fighting tears, I curled in on myself, covering my face with my crossed arms. As I lay there a warm wet nose pressed its way passed my weak defense. I shifted, wrapping my arms around Eric's furry body. He purred in my ear comfortingly, and I let go, crying helplessly into his warm fur.

"I yelled at her Eric, my only friend and I yelled at her, for no good reason. I'm such an _idiot." _He reached up and licked my ear comfortingly; I smiled through my tears "at least I still have you…" I trailed off staring miserably up at the ceiling "my own damn pride won't even let me go back there to apologize, I feel like such a coward." I sniffed wiping furiously at my eyes, my glasses clenched tightly on my other hand.

Eric leapt down from my lap, and I watched as he came to sit in front of the great floor length mirror. He mewed loudly, and pawed at it, I frowned in confusion. He looked back at me and meowed again. I sighed fondly.

"Alright, I can take a hint" I came and crouched beside him. "What is it boy?" I stared at my reflection in the mirror, "god, I'm a mess aren't I?" He didn't respond. I shook my head.

"I'm sorry boy; I don't know what you're trying to show me". He mewed again, a defeated look on his little face. "It's times like these that I really wish you could talk… I'd bet you'd have a lot to say". Too tired to change, I unhooked my corset and slid it out from under my dress. Tossing it aside, I slid into bed, completely exhausted from tonight's events. Just as I fell asleep, a last traitorous tear trickled down my face, shining like a diamond in the gloom.

**Wonder why Eric was meowing at the mirror *hint, hint* yeah, I couldn't resist. Also I'd love to hear some opinions on my writing style, are there any oddities, (besides my over use of commas, I'm working on that) are there words I over use, or anything else like that. I'd really appreciate if you'd tell me, I want to improve! Also, merry after Christmas everyone ;) (I'm not going to put a review number and see how this goes, but please still review, it makes me so happy)**

**-Your humble servant, Noose **


	8. Chapter 7

**I am so sorry for the delay and I won't blame you if you've all given up on me. I know I don't really have any excuse but I will say that I have been extraordinarily busy, if I didn't know better I'd say that the universe was contriving to keep this chapter from ever being written. I also apologize for the short length, I'm a bit low on inspiration, but I'm working on that. I am done with my ramblings so here you go.**

I watched the girl through the two-way mirror, a somber expression etched deep into my face. I knew how she felt, and I had felt the same, the first time I yelled at Christine. My eyes burned at the memory, but I swallowed my sorrow, that was over and done, I had shed my tears for that, I need not do it again, and it would change nothing.

I wanted to go to her, but her vicious little feline guard prevented it. I scoffed to myself, it was a foolish notion anyway, and I'd only frighten her. Sitting on the cold stone floor I leaned my back against the wall, closing my eyes I permitted myself to selfishly enjoy the music that wafted through my mind, soft and bittersweet.

/

Because of the oncoming Christmas performance the managers designed to give everyone the Sunday off to be with their families, and to attend the holiday church services. Though it is likely that not every person will be using their day off for such noble causes, I had a strong suspicion that more than one of my orchestra players would be nursing some terrible hangovers come next morning. In preparation for this I had decided to spend my morning out buying coconuts. I remembered fondly the mornings my mother took me to buy the odd foreign fruit.

My father was never a man to hold his liquor well, but he also had a tragic love of parties and other social events. At such happenings his friends would often, one way or another; goad him in to having a drink or two… usually more. Fun at the time, but he always ended up so miserable afterward, I chuckled softly under my breath. He had never learned, and so my mother's sworn-by cure was a tall glass of coconut milk, sweetened with a spoonful of sugar and nutmeg.

I smiled softly at the bittersweet memory, it was too lovely a day for sorrow, and the bright morning sun warmed my face, chasing away the winter chill. I wore the green dress from a couple of weeks ago, it had been too nice to resist, the only bright spot of color in my drab wardrobe. I self-consciously patted the green satin skirt, I wasn't used to wearing such finery, not anymore…

Strolling down a side street of the poorer section of Paris towards a small local market selling fresh produce, I observed woman hurrying along their small children, their bell like laughter a soothing balm to my battered soul. Venders called eagerly to potential customers, each vying for attention. I smiled, at the varied display of bustling city life. Finally, catching sight of my odd treasure I hurried over, and a shady looking vender with a drooping mustache eyed me over.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing in a dump like this, eh?" as he said, leaning over the side of the cart, raising his eyebrows suggestively. I bristled.

"I don't believe that is any of your business monsieur" I replied stiffly. He shrugged his shoulders, grumbling under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like '_worth a try'. _I pursed my lips, inwardly berating myself, this is what you get for dressing up, such a pointless thing to do, you have no one to impress, and of course it'd only because you trouble in the end.

As I did this I also picked my way through the vendor's fruit stock, picking out the biggest healthiest looking of the fuzzy brown fruits, and placing them in the large wicker basket I had borrowed from the opera kitchens. Once I decided I had enough, I paid the man, watching mournfully as my pay check disappeared into his greasy palms.

Wrinkling my nose in distaste, I left, heading back out into the morning sunlight. After my encounter with the shabby vendor, I didn't feel so confident in the nice dress. I pulled my tan shawl a little tighter, suddenly eager to be back in the relative safety of the opera house. As I walked I began to notice a man, following me. I felt a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. He wore a high collared black winter cloak and a wide brimmed hat, casting a deep shadow across his face. I moaned inwardly, _why do I keep getting into situations like this, it can't be normal. _I shook my head.

"I'm probably over reacting, he could just be heading in the same direction as me" I gave a shaky laugh as I attempted to reassure myself. Glancing back, I found that the man was gone. I breathed a sigh of relief, but my unease did not leave me. In hope of a short cut I dodged into an alley way, a couple of meters in I began to regret it, it was dark and silent, just like a certain ominous hallway from my memories.

"Lady Luck is _not_ favoring me today" I whispered softly under my breath, not entirely sure _why_ I was whispering, but liking the sound of my voice all the same. I glanced behind me, feeling terribly paranoid. There was no one there, but looking back I found myself face to face with a large expanse of brown; I jumped back revealing it to belong to the chest of a tall, sleazy looking man. He had greasy hair that hung, in matted clumps, down to his jaw. His shirt was a muddy brown color that I suspected was more from a lack of washing than his choosing. I swallowed thickly, as the man loomed over me.

"Looks like a little birds lost her way" I fought the bizarre urge to roll my eyes, _what ever happened to luck of the Irish? _ The man's companion peeked around him, this one had a long tattered trench coat that had seen better days, and a huge bushy mustache. In another situation it would have been comical. I glowered at them, wracking my brain for options. I couldn't fight them, nor could I run away, with the better numbers they could easily overpower me, and in my heavy skirt I couldn't run very fast at all.

"I think the little bird could use a drink" the other man added, with a lusty hungry look in his eyes that made my skin crawl. I backed away, and just as I was about to cut my losses and try running, a large gloved hand clamped down onto my shoulder. I choked back a scream.

"There you are ma chérie I was wondering where you'd run off to… you really ought to be more careful" looking up I saw that it was the man that had been following me before. "you could get in trouble" this last bit he addressed more to the men in front of us than me, his tone made it clear it was a warning. Taking the hint the two lowlifes scampered off, back to what ever dark hole they came from, I supposed. As soon as they disappeared from sight, the man spoke again.

"Are you aright?" I could feel his eyes burning into me but I didn't respond "you do not need to fear me, I promise that I will not harm you" I jerked out of his hold, scoffing loudly under my breath.

"ha, right, and I suppose you just _saved_ me out of goodness of your heart" looked up to him, his face still hidden from my view, " don't lie to me monsieur, you _men_ always want something" my eyes took on a haunted look as old memories resurfaced "I should know…" I heard him move, I reacted fast, lashing out I kicked him in the leg, hearing his grunt of pain I took my chance and bolted, I heard footsteps behind me and as I turned to look, my foot caught on the hem of my dress. I stumbled, and fell to my knees, my basket and its contents flying everywhere. I didn't stop to look, I scrambled to my feet and kept running, as my heart did it's best to claw its way from my chest.

Too wary of the little side street leading to the employee entrance of the opera populair, I ran straight up the main steps and through the double doors leading to the grand entrance way. I slid to a stop, as a few lingering employees, turned to stare at me. I backed off to the side, and leaning against one of the golden statues I struggled to catch my breath. My dress was in ruins, mud and dirt covered the hem, and a large tear ran up the side from where I had fallen. I started, as I noticed blood seeping through the exposed inner lining. I must have skinned my knee when I tripped. I sighed heavily, so much for my day off.

After cleaning my wound with alcohol, I tied a folded path of gauze around it, as Eric fussed over me mewing and pawing like some fussy old nurse maid.

"Calm down Eric I'm fine, it's only a scrape" I rubbed his head, and he nipped at my fingers playfully. Feeling somewhat better I changed out of my dress, and taking one last look at the ruined green dress, I balled it up and tossed it in the waste-basket.

I spent the rest of the day wandering the deserted upper levels of the opera house. After my brief scare in the alleyway I was, under no circumstances, ready to reenter the world, I probably wouldn't for a long time. I sighed heavily, leaning on the wooden rail of one of the opera rafters. Eric butted his head against my leg, I looked at him and he met my gaze with large amber eyes. I grinned ruefully and bent to stroke him. He had stuck to my side like a burr ever since I had returned from my outing, my furry little protector.

"sometimes I wish I could just run away from it all, run off into the woods and live in a cave or something, at least then I wouldn't be bothered…" Eric stared up at me with wide eyes, "you know I always come to my senses before it comes to that, silly." I chuckled weakly, as I reassured the alarmed animal. "I wouldn't make you live out in the cold, wet wilderness mo duinne" he purred happily at the sound of the old Gaelic endearment. I stayed there for quite a while, letting my mind wander as I admired the view that usually only stage hands received.

My mind drifted to the encounter with those men, and the one who saved me, it was true I didn't trust him, but he had helped me… I suppose reacted a bit harshly, my pride feeling bruised, I didn't like depending on others… for anything. I then imagined my self telling Meg about it, how she would react, she'd likely tell me I overreacted, and probably say something about how romantic it was how he saved me. My chest constricted painfully, as I realized it would likely be a conversation that would never happen. After the way I acted I wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to see me again.

"Damn, I'm such an idiot Eric, how could I do that to her? she had been nothing but kind to me until now and that is how I thank her?" I swallowed hard, schooling my features into a determined expression on my face "I have to find her and apologize, even if she doesn't forgive me it's the least I can do…" I stood up suddenly, filled with a new sense of determination. I must have stood too quickly, because as soon as I did a wave of vertigo hit me. I stumbled back, my arms shooting out in a desperate attempt to regain my balance, my left foot hung over the open air. Eric mewed loudly in fear, clinging desperately to the rough wood, as the platform swung wildly. My foot slipped and a piercing scream tore through the air.

**Well there you go, I am sorry if it seems like a bit of a filler chapter, but every story has its slow parts. I hope you enjoyed it and **_**please**___**review, I found that it actually makes me write faster. Also I will try to write and post the next chapter as soon as humanly possible. Mo duinne= my brown one ****ma chérie**** =my dear**

**Ps: I know you all probably don't care but I'm still going to say that I am so excited, I got asked to my school dance for the first time ever. :3 I also think that may help you all somewhat on the whole guessing my age thing, there have actually been a few people who were only one year off, also happy new year!**


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